


Saturday Matinee

by EventHorizon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, classic science fiction, movies - Freeform, pre-Mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 18:29:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1754133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EventHorizon/pseuds/EventHorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lestrade is thrilled to enjoy a day off with a good sci-fi film.  Someone else seems to think that’s a fine idea, too…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturday Matinee

**Author's Note:**

> For a variation of this theme with kid versions of our boys - [Saturday Matinee... the Younger Years](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1754143)

This was unbelievable!  He had three Saturdays in a row off, something absolutely unheard of, and his local cinema had decided to have a classic science fiction matinee every Saturday for a month!  Classic!  Not the modern crap that actually didn’t have any people in it because everyone on the screen was created on some computer somewhere, but real actors and men in suits playing the monsters and flying saucers toddling along because someone in the rafters was tugging on their strings.  This was the best… this was what little Greg Lestrade did on rainy days when he couldn’t be outside causing trouble and the telly was the best option for entertainment.  And this is what big Greg Lestrade did on rainy days when he didn’t have to work and raided his DVD collection.  But nothing compared to watching a film on the great, big cinema screen…

One ticket, thank you very much.  One popcorn large and buttery enough to kill a lesser man and a sugary soda to wash down the cholesterol very efficiently.  It was like he’d found a little slice of paradise long lost because he hadn’t done this in ages!  Definitely take a seat in the back where he wasn’t likely to be bothered by the idiots with their phones or the chatters and it was a quicker walk to the loo when his barrel-sized soda transferred from the cup to his bladder.  This was perfect!  And the cinema was filling up very nicely.  Good to see people coming out to watch something of quality.  Lots his age or older, but some younger ones, too.  Looked like it would be a fun crowd and… ok.  That was strange.  Bloke towards the middle… tall, sort of lean… from the back he looked a lot like Sherlock’s brother.  But that was insane because Sherlock’s brother was the poshest man he’d ever seen and that sort of person doesn’t watch old sci-fi films in little cinemas that only locals visited.  Mycroft probably had his own cinema in whatever enormous house he lived in.  Got films before they were even released to the rest of the masses.  Lucky devil…

And Mycroft surely wouldn’t be tossing that big handful of popcorn into his mouth.  Sherlock said he was always on a diet and you could probably keep someone alive for a month on the fat you picked up from a container of his wonderful, greasy goodness.  Not that _he_ had to worry about that, of course.  Nice and fit, even at his age.  Those little pooches right above his trouser waist were purely for decoration.  Keep others from getting too envious over his nice firm physique.  But it wasn’t as if he’d ever noticed even the slightest pooches or variations thereof on Mycroft Holmes.  Maybe Sherlock was full of shit about the diet.  Actually, Sherlock _was_ probably full of shit about the diet because he tended to talk shit about his brother as a semi-regular pastime.  You could fertilize a nice barley field with all the shit that fell out of Sherlock’s mouth when the giant crow started one of his tirades about Mycroft.  Or humanity, in general.  And John’s Christmas jumpers.  He’d tell him that the next time they were on a case.  Hey Sherlock!  Stand over there so when the shit starts flowing you don’t contaminate the crime scene.  John would laugh… once he explained what he was talking about.  Oh… film’s starting.  This was going to be great!

__________

That _was_ great!  _Forbidden Planet_ never failed to impress.  And… wow.  That man didn’t just have Mycroft’s head, he had Mycroft’s body, too.  Same way of holding himself, even though Mycroft Holmes wouldn’t likely be caught dead in a simple button-up and casual trousers.  Wonder what he looked… crap.  Taking the front exit.  Maybe he’d tell Sherlock he saw his brother at the cinema anyway wind him up for a good half-hour next time he got bored…

__________

Bollocks!  Why in the world did he even pick up his mobile on his free day?  Stupid murders trying to spoil things for him, but he’d nipped that cleanly with his mighty voice of command.  And a promise to get in early tomorrow to look over the file.  Now he was running late for his film, which was not actually true, but it was sort of true because he wouldn’t be getting in there early to get the right seat and all his health-rotting goodies situated just the way he liked them so his film-snack experience was the epitome of what snacky experiences could aspire to be in this world.  And there was a line… crap.  Or not crap… meant another good crowd and if there was a good turnout for this little experimental venture, the cinema owner might consider doing it again.  Which would… ok, another not crap… there was Mycroft’s doppelganger right at the head on the line.  Sunglasses and he wasn’t looking this way, but pale skin could be added to the list of ways in which this person could pass for the Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz.  Which was absolutely not how he thought of Mycroft, except sometimes.  Bordering on all the time, but not actually there yet, so _sometimes_ was still the right word and he was all about precise vocabulary.

Popcorn, popcorn, popcorn… should be the national food of… the world.  And there was Mycroft II sitting nicely in the center, which just happily had rows behind it, so he could slide in two or three back, not in a creepy stalkerish way, but a ‘my, isn’t the sound excellent in this spot’ sort of way.  And things would be bigger on the screen than if he sat in the back - what was better than that for a sci-fi classic?  Just have to ration his barrel of soda so he wasn’t having to make a piss stop, because crawling over people to get out of the row wasn’t fun even with nothing in the tender and pressure-sensitive tank.  Like that use of tactics, Mycroft II?  Mycroft I would be proud.  Probably give him a medal, if he remembered the name to go with the face.  Which he actually _did_ on the rare occasion they ran into each other in person and didn’t let their emails or mobiles do the up-close and personal encounter for them.  Not that Mycroft I’s electronics would agree to an intimate encounter with his stuff.  Mycroft I probably had a computer that, when you walked into the room, a dim spotlight shined on the thing and an angelic choir did that little hum they do when they think something’s blessed by heaven.  Oh… movie’s starting.  Time for more important things…

__________

Like Mycroft II’s nose.  That was _not_ his nose.  Mycroft II _could not_ have that nose because that nose belongs to Mycroft I and nobody else in the world was allowed to have it or their arses were getting tossed to the Wicked Witch of the West to feed to her flying monkeys.  And he was supremely qualified to make that assessment since he’d actually studied Mycroft I’s nose quite closely because… ok, leaving that thought at _because_ , because grown men did not admit to admiring another man’s nose.  Or finding it sexy.  Nope, that was simply not done.  Finding other things sexy was perfectly appropriate, like Mycroft’s bum, which… ok, set memory to rewind… watch the footage… sunglasses, blue pullover, tan trousers, very nice bum in the tan trousers… Mycroft II stole Mycroft I’s bum, too!  This man was in a world of hurt and… oh shit… don’t mind the grey-haired gentlemen next to you madam, he’s just picking up something imaginary that he dropped so Mycroft II didn’t see him when he turned around to give a very Mycroft I glare at the couple talking a bit too loudly.  Not that he should call his target Mycroft II anymore, because the curtain had been pulled back and Oz had been revealed!  And to think he’d just been making Sherlock loony yesterday about his brother slumming with the common people.  HAH!  But if _Sherlock_ didn’t know… oh, this was rub-the-hands-together interesting.  Mycroft Holmes sneaking out to have a day at the cinema in regular clothes and eating popcorn like a champion.  This was the sort of secret he could be executed for knowing.  Luckily, Greg Lestrade liked to live dangerously…

__________

Monday mornings were just brilliant when they started with a trip to Baker Street.  What else could possibly go wrong?  No… no no no no no…

      “Ah, Detective Inspector.  I take it you are coming to pay a visit to Sherlock and John?”

      “Yes, sir.  I have a case I’d like Sherlock to take a look at and that tends to go a bit more smoothly when John’s nearby to keep the peace.”

      “Yes, one of the doctor’s most valuable traits.”

Nose – check.  Bum – will check.

      “That it is.  Have a nice weekend, sir?”

Yes, I did just ask that, Mycroft I, henceforth just named Mycroft.  Look at me being cordial like I won prizes for it at school.

      “It was restful, thank you for asking.  And yourself?”

      “Oh, had a great time.  A little reading, a little telly, caught a film.”

      “Delightful.  Would that all of our free time could be spent in such a pleasurable and relaxing manner.”

      “I agree.  Well, I won’t keep you, sir.  Have a nice day.”

      “You as well, Detective Inspector.  I do enjoy our little chats.”

And add the smile to the list of things that grown men do not notice or comment upon, even though this one seemed a little more… smiley… than normal.  And… yes.  Bum has been confirmed.  Smile and bum in one morning.  If every visit to Sherlock started this way, he might stop by more often…

__________

Loitering is a crime, so he was certainly not doing it.  Or waiting for Mycroft to get in line, so he could be behind him and not give his bum a stare.  Or make certain Mycroft was sitting before _he_ was so he wouldn’t be seen.  Assuming Mycroft was even coming, which was starting to look doubtful.  He’d thought that two Saturdays in a row must mean Oz was going to enjoy the whole month of films, but that was a fairly stupid assumption, now that he thought about it.  If there was anyone in Great Britain busier than Mycroft Holmes, he certainly didn’t want to know the poor bugger.  Probably ready to go violently insane any moment and that would definitely put a damper on his free day.  So, yeah, it was silly to think he’d get another chance to observe Mycroft-in-disguise, but it had been fun while it lasted.  And… it was nice to know that the man _did_ let his hair down on occasion and enjoy the good things in life.  Speaking of which…

__________

Christ!  It was packed in here!  Luckily, there were a number of seats in the rear still available and that’s where he usually sat, so, really, it wasn’t a big issue and invoking a biblical figure was probably uncalled for.  Ok… popcorn, soda, maybe something he snuck in inside his jacket pocket because it was supposed to be Mycroft-watching day as well as sci-fi classic day and he wanted to celebrate.  Life was good, anyway.  Very good.  _This Island Earth_ going to start soon and he was plentifully provided with palatables and potables and he didn’t care if the first wasn’t a real word because it sounded good and started with a ‘p.’  And, he just might be in the right mood to have a pint or two at the pub when the film was over.  Exceptional night to have a few drinks, chat up someone nice, maybe catch the last bit of the match… this was definitely…

      “Oh, do pardon me, sir.  It is rather close-quarters, I’m afraid.”

      “Uh… hello. Sir.”

If Mycroft stayed frozen like that he was going to get punched by someone because nobody wanted to watch a film with a person standing in the middle of it.

      “Yes.  Detective Inspector.  I… I was looking for someone and I do not seem to see them.  Perhaps I was mistaken about the rendezvous location…”

      “You bought popcorn, sir.”

      “An… act of camouflage.”

      “I don’t think that would fool me even if I hadn’t seen you here before.”

      “You have?”

      “It’s alright, Mr. Holmes.  I haven’t told anyone, and I won’t, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

      “I… that is…”

      “Perhaps you should sit down, sir.”

      “Yes, that is likely a wise suggestion.”

And now he was sitting next to Oz himself.  If those huge flame and smoke balls shot up, he was going to be very late for work in the morning.  It took _forever_ to glue back on skin that got blown off by Hollywood pyrotechnics.

      “I must thank you for your discretion, Detective Inspector.  It is not often that I indulge myself in… frankly, it is not often that I indulge myself in _anything_ , however, I do value privacy for my personal affairs.”

      “I understand that.  A man in your position needs to keep his private life private.  Not to mention, Sherlock would be a complete bastard if he knew you were having a bit of fun.”

      “The mere thought is agonizing.  He forever derided me for my fondness of certain… _genres_ … when we were young and I have taken pains to prevent instigating any further rounds of his sadly theatrical posturing and caterwauling.”

      “He doesn’t know what he’s missed out on, then.  This is the best!  I lived for these films when I was a kid.  Still do, in fact.  Always prowling the shops looking for new DVD’s for my collection.”

      “I had no idea… you are a man of impeccable taste, Detective Inspector.”

      “Thank you, Mr. Holmes.”

      “That does seem rather foolish in this particular venue, I think.”

      “Yeah, you might be right… so, hello!  My name’s Greg.”

      “I am very pleased to make your acquaintance.  Do call me Mycroft.”

      “I believe I will.  It’s good to meet someone who likes this sort of thing, too.”

      “I admit I find it exhilarating.  And it is so rare that one can view such classics in the manner they were meant to be projected.”

      “It’s amazing they decided to do this little run, at all.  I’m hoping the crowds it’s drawn will mean they’ll do it again.”

      “Let us hope you are correct.  I would be very grateful for a further selection of these films.”

      “Maybe they’ll… yes!  It’s starting.  By the way… are you a chocolate fan?”

      “Is there anyone who is not?”

      “Nobody I want to know.  Good then.  We’ve got a treat for the second half.”

      “Oh?”

Lestrade drew the large Toblerone out of his pocket and gave it a little wave.

      “Gregory… I believe I am mesmerized.”

      “Glad to be of service.”

__________

This was a spectacular night!  And he wasn’t talking about the fresh, cool air or the sky full of stars... and, from Mycroft’s smile, he wasn’t the only one who thought so…

      “Simply wonderful.”

      “Absolutely.  What a great film!  This is what days off work are made for, Mycroft.  Just lose yourself for awhile in something fun… remind yourself what fun _is_ , is more like it, actually.”

      “I heartily concur.  I do attempt to schedule a day away from my responsibilities now and again for precisely that purpose.  Such as next Saturday, for example.  You… you _are_ attending next week’s showing of _The Day the Earth Stood Still_ , are you not?  It is truly a masterpiece of the era.”

Now that was a surprise!  Or maybe it wasn’t.  A great film was one thing, but a great film and someone to watch it with was another.  And they’d had a _lot_ of fun watching this great film!  Talking about the effects, the writing and acting, great sci-fi in general… they’d talked so much they’d gotten shushed by the lady in front of them and wasn’t the best part of the evening giggling like a little kid with Mycroft after they’d gotten in trouble.  Maybe he didn’t actually have next Saturday off, but that didn’t mean he _couldn’t_ have next Saturday off with a bit of persuasive persuasion to someone who _might_ have Saturday off and realizes they suddenly need to trade days with him because of… reasons.

      “You couldn’t keep me away.  I’ll sneak in two Toblerone’s for that, so don’t let some World War break out so you can’t come.”

      “That shall occupy the lion’s share of my week’s initiatives.  Well, I suppose… goodnight, Gregory.  This has been a very rewarding evening.”

      “It has, it really has.  Thanks, Mycroft.  I definitely enjoyed myself.”

      “I am most glad to hear it.  So…”

      “Yeah…”

      “I am certain you have other matters to which to attend.  I shall not detain you further.”

Boy that last part came out a little fast.  And that walking way was a little fast, too, sort of like Mycroft thought he had a busy social life and didn’t want to interfere, which was funny enough to win an award for comedy writing.  But, maybe it also hinted that Mycroft _didn’t_ have a busy social life, either, which was a shame since the man was amazing to spend time with.  Should he?  Why not… he’d already planned on having a little more enjoyment tonight, hadn’t he?

      “Mycroft!  Wait a moment, will you.”

      “Pardon?”

      “Look… I was already planning on having a pint or two at the pub down the street, so why don’t you join me?  If you’ve got nothing better to do, that is.  We barely scratched the surface on early 70’s offerings, after all, and I think that deserves a lot more of our completely unbiased analysis.  And alcohol, because the 70’s, as a rule, is best remembered through the haze of a few good pints.  My hair, alone, would have made you cry and I still haven’t forgiven my parents for that lovely piece of humiliation.  Good films, though so… what do you say?”

Not that the slow grin spreading across Mycroft’s lips was anywhere near a river of tears.  Fingers crossed…

      “I am honored by the invitation, Gregory and I shall happily accept.”

      “Great!  It’s not the most upscale place, but you can hear yourself talk and they’ve got some good beers on offer.  Shall we?”

      “I do believe we shall.”

And now they were walking towards this completely unexpected twist to the night, but cops expected the unexpected.  And that came in handy when… wait a minute… did he just catch Mycroft Holmes giving his reflection in the pane glass a subtle arse inspection?  There was definitely a tiny cut of those blue eyes and if there was one thing Greg Lestrade was good at it was angles!  Used them plenty of times himself and that was a very familiar bit of trigonometry… Ok, that was an unexpected thing he had _not_ expected, but who the hell cared because his arse just got checked out and that was something worth celebrating.  Not that Mycroft was confessing to his crime, but maybe… maybe there’d be an opportunity tonight for _him_ to get caught giving a certain bum a quick once-over.  Keep going in this direction and there just might be a film, drinks _and_ dinner in his very near future.  And in his not-so-near future… well, they’d just have to see about that…


End file.
